


Nation's Sweetheart

by KPOPTrashLord-007 (TrashLord_007)



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Blood and Violence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark, Explicit Language, F/M, Idol Kim Taehyung | V, Idol Reader, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Yandere, Yandere Bangtan Boys | BTS, Yandere Kim Taehyung | V, yandere kpop, yandere kpop idols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28495479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashLord_007/pseuds/KPOPTrashLord-007
Summary: In order to protect both your and Taehyung's careers, you choose to break up with your long-term boyfriend. While dealing with the usual pain that comes after a separation, you find yourself struggling to explain your actions while also maintaining a healthy distance to safeguard your heart, which isn't made easy when Taehyung comes strolling back into the picture.Things take a dangerous turn when your past refuses to stay dead and threatens to take you down with it.~~~~~Yandere!Idol!Taehyung x Idol!Reader
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Nation's Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings;;**  
>  Yandere, blood, swearing, violence, manipulation, abuse and blackmail. 
> 
> **Request;;**  
>  Can do an idolverse w/ Yandere!V w/ a reader who also is in a popular GG but she breaks up w/ because she wants to focus more on her career and V threatens to release something scandalous of her if she does?
> 
> The beginning is weak on this one but bear with it aha  
> Not edited because my sister would rather watch kdrama FMVs :')

You felt suffocated.

"Well, well, well," Taehyung's voice rumbled in your own chest as he spoke, his body pressed so close against yours you could feel him breathing. "Looks like our Nation's Sweetheart is trending again."

You felt suffocated by his embrace as he held you. 

His thighs trapped you between his legs and his feet locked yours to the spot. You were close enough to feel his every movement just as he could feel yours. When you tried to inch away, he'd tighten his hold on you. Like a boa constrictor, he held you in place without an inch to give. Even the smallest shuffle resulted in him buckling down and pulling you closer to him. 

You felt suffocated by this thing you called a relationship. 

With his global recognition and your rising popularity, you rarely had time to see one another. When you did, the hoops you had to jump through just to keep it hidden was on another level of ridiculous. You wanted a regular relationship, or as much of one as you could manage as an idol, but two idols dating seemed impossible. Dating Taehyung felt so _empty_ \- it had been so long since you felt sparks that you wondered if they ever existed in the first place. 

You felt suffocated by his touch, by his gaze, by his presence. 

You felt suffocated by his _love._

"Ah, Taehyung…" 

He hummed in acknowledgment but it was obvious his attention was elsewhere. You tried again with less success, his eyes glued to the screen as he scanned through the contents of what you assumed was still one of your fansites. He had a habit of keeping up on them, staying in the loop of both your idol and personal life. 

The third time you called his name, he angled the phone to show you the screen. It wasn't a website you recognised. There was an article with your name as the headline and the promise of a major scoop. The photo they used was beyond flattering and for that you were grateful, but the content itself was hogwash. You'd never been to where they had claimed to have filmed you on a date. 

"Taehyung, we should talk."

"What about, doll?"

His attention was focused on the article still. 

"Taehyung, please. This is important."

"We've never been there."

"Huh?"

"I've never taken you to that theatre. How could they have a photo of us if we've never been?"

"Obviously they don't. Taehyung, put the phone down and listen to me."

He chuckled out a 'sorry' before slipping the device into his pocket. It wasn't ideal timing, what with his attention on the tabloid rather than on what you wanted, no, _needed_ to say, but that was the thing. You couldn't put it off any longer, you couldn't pretend any longer. To set yourself free and to live your life, you had to let him go.

"We should break up."

Devastation. 

There was a myriad of emotions on his face but devastation stood out to you the most. The way his cheek quivered and his eyes wavered, the playful sparkle lost and replaced with pain - you knew he was close to tears. His lips parted a few times before clamping shut, perhaps swallowing his emotions before they could spill forth. He couldn't bear to look you in the eyes while his mind raced, looking for any sign to give him insight and clarity into your sudden declaration. 

"This… this isn't working. We don't even see each other anymore. I need someone who will be there for me. This just isn't fair on either of us."

"Who is it?" 

The whispered question hits you from left-field. It wasn't what you expected and you hadn't planned for it. All the responses and possible outcomes you had accounted for had gone down the drain with one question and you cursed yourself for not having prepared for it. 

"What? Who is who?"

"Do I know him?"

"Know who? What are you talking about?"

"The man they're going to expose as your boyfriend."

You sighed, bordering between irritation toward yourself for not realising his train of thought from the get-go and shock mixed with a dull sense of rage toward him at the implication of your infidelity. "There isn't anyone else, Taehyung."

"Don't lie to me!" Tears flowed down his skin, his voice deepening as his emotions rose. "Why else would you do this now? Out of nowhere!"

"Taehyung, please, just calm down. It has nothing to do with that article. There's no one else. It's always been you. I just… I need to focus on my career. I need to focus on me."

Readying yourself for a long conversation and what you hoped would be an amicable breakup, you leaned backwards in your seat. If you went about this right, you would both leave this hurt but understanding of the situation. It was without a doubt in both of your best interests, so you were confident that you could make this easier for him. 

But Taehyung never quite followed your plans like you thought he would. 

An enigma to the end, he stood and brushed past you. In his haste, his leg caught on the coffee table. It hurt. Without a doubt it hurt, just _hearing_ it hurt, but he kept walking. Forcing yourself into an upright position, you struggled to catch up to him. Where his thoughts and emotions were taking him were anywhere but a good place. 

"Taehyung! Taehyung, where are you going?" 

By the time you reached him, the door slammed between you, further separating you. 

_Time heals all wounds._

It had been your mantra after the breakup, one you spoke into existence not only for you, but Taehyung as well. If it hadn't destroyed you both to begin with, then every passing day was a step closer to closure. While you hadn't seen him for quite some time, you had hoped he was well. Every day he slipped into your mind and you wished him the best, wherever his path may have led him. 

Now that he was so close, you wondered if you could maintain the sentiment. 

Your eyes met his from across the room and you wondered who was worse off, who had suffered more. 

He looked away without hesitation, not bothering to linger on you for more than a second, and you wondered why you had wasted so many nights worrying over him and speculating how the breakup could have and should have played out. 

Scoffing, you forced your gaze down to the tiled floor and you wondered if he had been hurt at all or if you'd imagined it just to make yourself feel better. 

"This has to be the first time I've seen you not making heart eyes at V," your youngest member joked, nudging your shoulder with a giggle. 

"Cut it out. You know how it is."

Your leader was stern and even your playful maknae knew better than to push it any further right now. She pouted at her elder before focusing her attention on the other members who each in turn began to tease her, giving back as good as they took from her endless jabs. Ignoring the group of girls and their rising volume, your leader gave you a side eye glance, curious but not wanting to pry, then ran over the stage plans for the hundredth time under her breath. No one was listening at this point; her words served as a reminder only for herself. You were alone with your thoughts, left to yourself and your own devices, which was commonplace these days. 

Solitude was your new normal and it was miserable.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Nation's Sweetheart." 

Your head snapped up in time to catch Taehyung's eyes as BTS passed on their way to makeup. They burned with unspoken words. He had left so fast that day and there was still so much to say but he had never reached out to you. Even after you requested he meet you one last time to finally say all that needed to be said, he hadn't responded. Perhaps he needed that extra time. Perhaps he was ready now and this was his attempt at rebuilding the bridge that laid charred in its own ash. 

You wondered if he'd try to find you alone. The explanation you had given just wasn't enough, it wasn't how you wanted to end your relationship with him. Your final words to him were too callous and self-centered to mark the end. 

With that in mind, you hoped he'd find you one last time. 

"Nation's Sweetheart. Aish, why don't I have a cute nickname like that?" 

"Because you're not cute."

"How about Nation's Brat?"

"More like Nation's Rat."

"Why are you guys so mean?" 

Your group continued to tease your youngest member, creating even worse titles the more she complained. Her high-pitched whines snapped you out of your reverie. Refocusing on the present, you watched Taehyung and the rest of BTS disappear behind a door before you and the rest of the girls were ushered onto the stage. 

With the grace provided by endless hours spent practicing, your dance was clean and effortless. The choreography had been drilled into your mind and at this point you could do it in your sleep. You never thought sleepless nights would be something you were grateful for but as your mind wandered far from the stage, you could appreciate the way your body followed the song on pure instinct alone. 

There was an endless sea of celebrities, press and bigwigs but Taehyung wasn't amongst them. He couldn't be. BTS was, after all, still in makeup as their own stage was being prepared. The lights were blinding and you couldn't see the crowd, but it didn't matter. You knew he couldn't be there and that was that.

And yet you could feel him.

You felt his gaze.

You felt his judgement.

You felt his eyes burning into your form, observing your every movement. When you bit your lip and shrugged at the camera rather than playing along to the show's lip-synch request, you knew he was watching. When you took center stage between the two main dancers and tried your best not to make a fool out of yourself, dancing to a solo that was designed for a level of expertise much higher than you possessed, you knew he saw the way your smile faltered. When the song came to an energetic end and you once again found yourself at the center of the group with the camera's zooming in to capture your visage as the final image, you knew he sensed your guilt. 

It was pure luck that you had taken off and become the member the public knew best. The company told you that through your popularity the whole group would reap the benefits and they would ride on your slipstream, but it didn't feel right. The sudden abundance of lines, screen time and solo work didn't sit right with you. You were all in this together and yet the company only promoted you, further elevating your image and creating the irreproachable persona that was the Nation's Sweetheart. 

Now here you stood with millions of eyes on you and only you and the unbearable pressure that came with it. Through the lens of the camera that focused on your ending pose, the title of ending fairy having fallen to you now and no one else, millions of viewers watched how your lips parted in desperate need of air. As expected, your gaze was soft and joyous. To play into your image, you tilted your head and laughed while resisting the urge to throw up. Sweat trickled down your forehead and you wondered if the camera was still on. You wondered if it captured the way it rolled all the way down your face and past your neck, coming to rest between your heaving bosom. 

It wouldn't surprise you. Despite holding an innocent and refreshing image, you were oversexualised and often exploited to appease the desires of male fans. Over and over you had been told to look sweet and pure while also exuding an underlying, unspoken sex appeal. You were expected to tease the audience, to tempt them, but to never go beyond that. A shy bite of the lip during interviews, an exaggerated moan on mukbangs, an awkward tug at your much-too-short skirt on the red carpet - it was all scripted. 

Taehyung had hated it.

Did it still elicit unadulterated rage in him now? 

It wasn't until after the show that you saw Taehyung again. There was talk of a small gathering to celebrate the night's awards. Everyone gathered in the initial waiting room as they made their plans and you bit back a groan when your manager pushed for you all to attend, the opportunity to mingle with senior celebrities too great to pass. 

As expected, BTS was invited. Taehyung sat at the end of a leather couch, one of the only idols to have taken a seat, and nodded along to the people talking at Namjoon. His mind was elsewhere. So was yours. Despite your previous desire to speak to him, the thought of being alone with him made you queasy. You wished to avoid him. You knew the reason behind your sudden change of heart but it didn't help quell the overwhelming sensation.

Shame.

Shame clawed at your gut. Shame for how you acted on stage regardless of it being your job, shame for breaking up with him even though you knew it was in both of your best interests, shame for hurting him. 

Taehyung always had a way of making you feel shameful for things out of your control. 

Conversation seemed inevitable, however, once you locked eyes. There was too much left unsaid and it threatened to spill forth like a tidal wave. Even as he stood, the room's attention falling to him, and strode over to you, you found words bubbling up in your throat. Confidence radiated off him, evident in his tall stature and small smirk. He could read you like a book, after all. All it took was a single piercing stare and your insecurities became his weapon. 

Tapping your foot and shifting your gaze to the ground, your body reacted before your mind could. Nerves got the better of you as you gulped and picked at your nails. Your interactions had always been a private affair. No one even realised you two knew one another and you needed it to stay that way. If the press caught wind of a dating scandal, you didn't know who would tear you apart first: the public or your company. Yet here he was, a mere few feet in front of you with his gaze locked onto your trembling form. It was imperceptible, the way your body quivered as you fought to regain stability within your racing mind, but you knew he noticed. 

He always did.

When it came to you, _nothing_ escaped his sight. 

Leaping to her feet, your leader stumbled through a greeting. She was just as nervous as you were, albeit for a much different reason. BTS, arguably the biggest boy group, were all starting to crowd around your group. It wasn't uncommon for Taehyung to be around, always lingering near you during events and award shows to the point she suspected you were lying when you claimed not to know him, but it was a first for all the members to return her greeting. 

Taehyung's smooth and deceivingly strong hands clasped around your leader's. She gasped, taken aback by the firmness of it even as he moved onto the next member. It was shocking for your entire group to say the least; BTS congratulating them on their performance, shaking their hands and exchanging pleasantries. It should have been the other way around and yet here they stood, shining smiles and shy bows. 

Then you returned to square one with him before you, a predator sizing up its prey. 

"I was blown away by your performance tonight. The way you danced, your skills, your attitude - it was like being hit by a truck."

"What?" You stammered, your blood running cold. 

His smirk grew when he saw you gulp. Your chest heaved and your heartbeat sped, your breathing becoming staggered. Memories of that fateful night overwhelmed you and panic crawled upward from your churning gut to your constricting throat before tightening its hold on you, strangling you with fear and paranoia. 

He licked his lips. It was the desired effect. Such a fruitful reaction had been expected and he found himself enjoying every last second of it. He raised his voice and turned to address the whole group with his soft, boxy grin. "The concept was so fresh and new for you all. It was magical. I felt like a deer in the headlights."

Namjoon chuckled and slapped the younger's shoulder, "Taehyung, what are you even trying to say? Anyway, it was great meeting you all but we really should be heading out. Until next time."

A shiver tore down your spine. 

It was a threat you hadn't expected and you felt yourself going numb. 

Several hours later you found yourself stumbling out of bed. The door buzzer went off again, the person growing impatient. It was so early in the morning that you had half a mind to answer the door just to tear them asunder but you paused, checking the security camera. Cold terror gnawed at your stomach and you didn't quite know why. He was a familiar sight, after all. 

"What do you want, Taehyung?"

"Did you change the passcode?"

"Of course. Are you here to pick up your things? You just left them here after… You might as well take them now if you can."

"Are you still angry at me?"

"I was nev-"

"Then why are you being so cold, doll? Open up."

The last thing you wanted was to discuss your breakup over the intercom, so you popped the door open and ushered him inside. Within seconds he made himself at home, kicking his shoes off and throwing his coat over the back of 'his' lounge chair, still comfortable enough even after the separation to pick up the pile of mail on the counter and flip through it. 

"I put all your stuff in those boxes." You gestured toward the front door and the pile of belongings he passed when he entered. He paid it no mind, instead opening your fridge. You waited for him to grab a drink or snack and to settle down but he instead moved onto the next room. Assuming he went to the bathroom, you waited a few minutes before following. You had heard the door open and close twice over. He should've returned by now. 

The bathroom door was closed and the light was off so you swung it open. Finding an empty room devoid of Taehyung, you continued down the hall. Evidence of his passing was the framed couple photo of you both that had previously been turned over and left forgotten on the table. It now stood righted. Taehyung's eyes seemed to follow you even as a photograph. Even as a mere image of himself, he judged you. You slammed the frame back down. 

Quickening your pace, you jogged down the hall and away from the table with its cursed photo. There weren't many rooms in the apartment and even less down this hall so it didn't take much to put two and two together and realise he must have snuck into your bedroom. Your temper was rising before you even opened the door but it snapped when you found him searching your closet. 

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're alone."

"No shit. What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

"I thought you met someone else."

"No! No, you knew I hadn't! I told you I hadn't, Taehyung!"

"Then let's stop fighting."

"We never fought. You left. We broke up and you left and I think you should take your stuff and leave because it's too soon and I don't want you here."

"And now I'm back and I'm sorry. I just needed some time to think but I'm back and you don't have to worry anymore, doll. I'm home."

"What the fuck are you even saying right now?"

"It's getting late. Should we sleep?"

Deft fingers had his buttons undone and his shirt off before you had even processed his words. His pants were soon to follow and all you could do was sputter, dumbfounded by his boldness. In just his boxers, he beckoned you. When you didn't move, frozen to the spot in disbelief, he closed the distance and grabbed your arms. 

"Are you okay?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't worry about my little doll?"

"I'm not your-"

"Do you remember last summer?"

The fear was back and it didn't hold any punches. Panic gripped your heart and squeezed without remorse. You struggled to breathe. Panting and sweating and damn near on the edge of a full on panic attack, you tried to pull away from him but his hold only tightened. Yanking you into his arms, the warmth of his chest felt soothing compared to the shameful fire burning within. 

He wouldn't bring it up, would he?

"S-sure," you managed to stutter out. "Vaguely."

He wouldn't do that to you, _surely_ he wouldn't.

"Vaguely? It's not really something you could forget, though, is it?"

He wouldn't blackmail you… would he?

"Of course I remember."

He wouldn't.

"Interesting."

Would he?

"Why?"

"No reason, doll. Should we bathe together before bed?"

"I don't really want to," you said, biting back tears as he tutted, guiding you toward the bathroom all the same. 

"I guess now that you don't need me to wash the blood off you you don't want me around. How you wound me."

"That's not true," you cried, the anguish of that horrific night and the pain of your hair being tugged as Taehyung held your skull were too much and the dam broke. Tears, snot and saliva ran down your face. Had you half your usual worries, you'd fret over your image. None of it mattered now, however. 

All that mattered was Taehyung and the knowledge he wielded like a guillotine, ready to strike you down the moment you stepped out of line. 

"See, doll? You do need a bath. Look at you. Pathetic."

Your knees buckled under you as he shoved you forward. Cold porcelain met your delicate cheeks and you felt blood well in your mouth. Scratching the tiling of the shower-bath, you tried to stand only to be forced down. There was already water in the tub but it was freezing and you shrieked, shivering as it engulfed you. Lavender bubbles splashed around you. You tried to crawl out, reminiscent of a cat scrambling to escape its bath. 

"Stay still, doll. It's your own fault the water is cold. Resistant until the end as always."

Whether from stress or the impact with the wall seconds prior, blood poured forth from your nose. It was the only warmth you felt. He tutted when he noticed the crimson river trailing down past your lips. Gripping your skull once more, he dunked you under the water. The scented oils that had smelled soothing now stung your eyes. You tried to scream only to choke on the water. 

There was hell in his glare when he pulled you from the bloody bath, lifting you to your feet by his iron grip in your hair. If he hadn't had you fixed in place, you would've fell; your toes slipped on the limited amount of surface they could reach. More tears fell freely. Pain exploded throughout your head and you wanted to scream but all you could manage was a coughing fit as you expelled the water you had swallowed. 

"Tell me, doll, was this all a _game_ to you?"

Right down to the bone, you felt chilled.

"Was my love a _joke_ to you?"

He made you feel small and pathetic under his authoritative aura. Fear overruled the humiliation that ebbed away at you once he started to tear your shirt off with his bare hands, the force of his actions shaking you like a ragdoll. It was crumpled and stained with blood. Tossing it on the ground, he gestured for you to finish the task. Once you obeyed, slipping out of your pants and underwear, he released his hold and you slumped into the ice-cold water. 

"Don't ever forget who owns you, doll. I wasn't the one who mistook that old geyser for a deer and ran him the fuck down in my big truck, now was I? And yet I risked my life and reputation to help you cover it up and now you treat me like I'm the shit on your shoe? You get a little fame and suddenly it's all about you and your career when I've been risking mine since the day I fell in love with you." 

Shivers tore down your spine when you felt the loofah release water along your shoulders. It trickled down to collect with the rest of the dirtied suds crowding your brittle limbs. Fighting the urge to run and scream and fight to your last breath, you bowed your head as Taehyung began to clean your back. Brief warmth radiated from where his breath met your skin before it turned cold, even colder than that of the neglected bath water. 

"Now tell me, doll, who owns you?"

"You do, Taehyung."

"What? Aren't you happy?"

"Of course I am."

"Then _smile_. Only broken dolls don't know how to smile." You forced a smile but he saw through it, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck until your back arched and your mouth fell open in a voiceless plea. That infamous boxy grin blocked your view as he looked down upon you, his thumb tracing the corner of your swollen lip. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll fix you once and for all."

**Author's Note:**

> This took a much darker turn than I originally had planned!!  
> I don't like it but I hope you did!!


End file.
